


Yellow Surprise

by ToolMusicLover



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Boys In Love, But they talk eventually, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Lack of Communication, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Miscommunication, Obi-Wan overreacts, Oblivious Obi-Wan Kenobi, Oral Sex, POV Obi-Wan Kenobi, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26632930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToolMusicLover/pseuds/ToolMusicLover
Summary: When Anakin is distant with him during a simple negotiation mission Obi-Wan jumps to the wrong conclusion, luckily for him Anakin isn't willing to let him go so easily.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 14
Kudos: 229





	Yellow Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all,
> 
> This fic starts of relatively angsty, but don't fret, it ends fluffy and smutty.
> 
> The tags don't really make it clear, so to reiterate, the smut in this fic is primarily based around one of our lovely boys wearing lingerie. If that isn't your type of thing then I wouldn't recommend reading.
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated, heed the tags and enjoy reading!

Anakin has been acting strangely since their arrival on Te’Rra two nights ago.

His usually energetic former Padawan was oddly reserved, for once allowing Obi-Wan to lead the mediation efforts between the Tebro and the Rraen clans.

Anakin, of course, was aware that his former Master surpassed his own abilities in negotiation but he usually attempted to contribute to the discussions. Whether that be through petulant impatience or self-righteous knowledge. Either way, Anakin always ensured that his thoughts on the topic were known.

Such behaviour usually exasperated Obi-Wan to no end. He could never understand how he, _The Negotiator,_ had been unable to instil a certain level of aptitude in negotiation within Anakin over a decade long apprenticeship. At the moment, he urgently wishes that Anakin would interrupt his current monologue with a vexed eye roll or a huff of annoyance. Instead, Anakin is staring out the window shifting every now and again on his feet not even pretending to be listening to the talks.

Obi-Wan takes a quick, deep breath, glances at Anakin who resolutely avoids his eyes and continues talking. His demeanour doesn’t reflect his internal frustrations but they are there nonetheless.

He is used to an uninterested Anakin, a bored and restless Anakin, but he is not used to a distant and cautious Anakin. His demure attitude is unpleasant and worrisome, causing a ball of apprehension to grow in Obi-Wan’s stomach and settle uncomfortably with a hard thump.

They had arrived on Te’Rra two days prior hoping that they would be able to complete the negotiations within a day. Unfortunately, that hadn’t been the case and it would appear that the negotiations wouldn’t be completed until tomorrow. In the grand scheme of things a four day negotiation wasn’t actually that long, and they should be grateful that they had only been requested for the finalisation of the negotiations, but with the ongoing war any day away from the field could have disastrous consequences that both he and Anakin were eager to prevent.

He and Anakin had been requested as they had been the visiting Jedi when the treaty had first been established between the two clans five years ago. Now that both clans were looking to make some additions to the treaty they had requested that the same Jedi be present.

At first he had been more than frustrated to be called away from his duties. The 212th were currently waiting out a blockade in the Mid-Rim and needed their General. But he had ceded eventually, understanding that the blockade was unlikely to end in the few days of his absence.

Upon learning that Anakin would be joining him he had somewhat guiltily rejoiced. The two of them hadn’t been sent on a mission alone together since the beginning of the war nearly a year ago. Their relationship had changed quite a bit since then and he had been looking forward to lathering his attention on Anakin without the usual presence of their men or other Jedi.

He had thought that his want for privacy, for time alone together would be reciprocated...obviously he’d been wrong.

The development of his and Anakin’s relationship into something...more was not ideal. Really, it was less than ideal. Not only was he treading a very thin line within the boundaries of the Jedi Code but he happened to also be doing it during a war. Quite possibly the most inappropriate and inopportune time to grow attached to someone, let alone his former Padawan, best friend and partner in possibly all important things.

In the heat of the moment he casts aside his worries quite quickly. So what if whenever they could he and Anakin came together with a thunder of blistering heat, gasping into each other’s mouths? As long as such things happened discreetly then surely those snatches of happiness couldn’t be held against them?

They are, after all, on the front lines nearly every day risking their lives in a galaxy wide war. And why should it be held against them when after having returned from a month long tour around the Outer Rim they can be found curled around each other? So what if he enjoys passionately thrusting into Anakin’s tight, warm hole, listening to Anakin gasp heatedly into his ear, he can hardly be faulted, surely?

That’s what he likes to tell himself anyway. It had perhaps been the case at the start of their new ...relationship. Now though, he no longer only wanted Anakin when he was desperate with bloodlust and grief, but also when he was alone and frantically hoping that Anakin was safe, that he’ll soon be able to run his hands through those unruly curls once again.

That isn’t to say that he’s exactly open with his want. Anakin must still and has always made the first move. He finds the quite blatant attachment that he has for Anakin unbecoming, whereas, Anakin on the other hand has never had difficulty in recognising his attachments and acting upon them.

Obi-Wan had pondered if the Order’s position on this aspect of the Code would be altered because of the war, it couldn’t be denied that a great portion of the Jedi had grown attached to the clones – he knew he was attached to Cody and the 212th. Though, as of yet there has been no deliberation or consideration by the Council regarding this specific tenet and its impact on the future of the Order. Perhaps it was still too soon to tell.

For now though, Anakin must come to him first. It is an unspoken agreement between them. Usually Anakin is impatient, over eager, his hands grasping at Obi-Wan’s armour before the flap of their tent or the door of their quarters has closed. But there has been no fumbling kisses or frantic rubbing this time, only silence. It puts him on edge, his anxiety rising as Anakin’s absence continues.

Has he done something to upset Anakin? Perhaps the younger man has finally had enough of his rules and regulations, at his persistence for some form of perceived distance between them.

For all of his wonderings though he can’t come up with anything conclusive. Their last encounter had been as passionate and thrilling as always. In fact, Obi-Wan’s often overly cautious disposition only encourages Anakin further, making it his personal mission to unravel Obi-Wan’s usually unflappable nature.

Only on one occasion had Anakin been hesitant, the very first time he had tried to kiss Obi-Wan.

\--

They had just returned to their quarters on Coruscant after Anakin had had a lengthy debriefing with the Council. Anakin had been reaped with praise that day for his success in securing the membership of an essential Mid-Rim planet to the Republic.

Obi-Wan remembers staring across at Anakin from his seat in the Chamber, his face no doubt set in a wide, proud smile.

But there had been something else as well, something evocative and knowing when his and Anakin’s eyes had met. He had known then that whatever it was that had been accumulating between them over the past few months would soon implode.

Sure enough, as soon as they were back in their quarters Anakin had pushed him against the closest wall and had kissed him messily, all consumingly. He had shoved Anakin back almost immediately, frightened by the hot thrill that had run through his body at the first press of Anakin’s lips against his. As a result, Anakin had been staring at him with large, dilated eyes, his eyebrows risen dramatically high and his face cautious.

“I-I...”

“Don’t do that again Anakin,” he had warned.

“What – why?!” Anakin had demanded, “You wanted it. Your eyes were basically begging for it in the Chamber Obi-Wan!” The tops of his ears reddening as he’d grown more flustered.

“They most certainly were not!” he had promised with a splutter.

Though, when he looks back on it now he thinks that may not have been true.

“They were!” Anakin had accused, “You – you looked so – so,” he had chucked his hands in the air in exasperation then, “Eugh, whatever Obi-Wan,” he had said, dejection and embarrassment curling around his Force signature as he fled their quarters.

That incident had been difficult to accept. He had noticed Anakin in the past few months, noticed things about him that were not appropriate and he had also detected that his observations had not gone unseen, in fact that they were reciprocated. Anakin really hadn’t been subtle, he had cast his want far and wide, either unashamed or ignorant that Obi-Wan was able to detect such emotions in his Force signature so well. But, after a particularly heated sparring session things seemed to have ratcheted up between them to a whole new level. Anakin had practically run from him afterwards and having realised that the ache and lust he could sense at the moment was Anakin’s from within their shared quarters his own longing had increased tenfold.

It seemed that Anakin never left his thoughts, the churning desire now always present within him. The frequency and intensity of this new yearning unnerved him. How exactly was he meant to deny Anakin when he looked like that? Yes, like t _hat,_ tan skin tinted golden so that Anakin’s luminous body matched the brightness of his Force signature, broad shoulders rolling luxuriously after a hard day fighting, strong, lithe arms flexing as he repeatedly fought of droids and a mischievous, exciting smirk that made him seductive and impossible to deny.

Obi-Wan was simply overcome, his thoughts never ending and hopeless to ignore. He found himself constantly staring at Anakin’s shifting muscles whilst they sparred or came together on the battle field, had dragged his eyes up Anakin’s long legs where they eventually met his round, firm arse. That particular area had featured in his dreams many times, wondering obsessively what that piece of skin was like, where Anakin’s arse and thighs met. Was it as soft as he guessed it to be? Or was it firmer, harder than he would expect? Was the golden hair of Anakin’s legs lighter or darker up there? What kind of noises would Anakin make if Obi-Wan sunk his teeth in there, marking him as his? His thoughts on the matter were frustratingly constant, even now after he had been able to answer each question.

So, once that first confirmation of a mutual interest had come his way it had only been a matter of time before he had convinced himself that acting upon his wants couldn’t surely be that bad. That he could handle Anakin and whatever problems a different relationship between them would invoke?

\--

He almost wants to scoff at his own naivety.

He had struggled with his attachment to Anakin whilst he had been his Padawan, there was no reason to believe that this attachment would be any different now. Indeed, it had only grown as he felt himself further pulled within Anakin’s aura.

Now though, that attachment that he _knew_ would be his downfall was causing him pain in a way he hadn’t expected.

He had thought that whenever this thing between him and Anakin came to its end it would be with fierce, angry words – Anakin’s frustration over his lack of ‘feeling’ finally reaching its breaking point, or with shame and sorrow when the Council finally found out about their indiscretions.

Both possibilities are plausible and both make Obi-Wan squeeze his eyes shut and wait until the panic recedes, that all consuming dread occurring more and more frequently lately. He stubbornly pushes such thoughts away, now wasn’t the time for another bout of chest clinching panic.

What he hadn’t thought to expect was silence. Of Anakin withdrawing himself from Obi-Wan’s presence, both literally and figuratively, their Force bond for the last two days nearly non-existent. Only a single thread holding them together.

It was surprisingly painful, his heart shuttering whenever he tried to reach out to Anakin only to be met with silence from the now near empty bond.

Presently, he stands as the negotiations come to a short break and looks across to Anakin. He’s shuffling his feet once again and plucking at his robes with quick, grabbing motions. As though, he’s uncomfortable with the sensation of them on his skin. Obi-Wan almost wants to scold him for the fiddling, long habits as a Master quickly arising, he bites his tongue instead. He’s no longer Anakin’s Master and anyway, whenever he comments on Anakin’s lack of serenity he is only ever met with an irritated scowl. 

“Anakin,” he calls softly whilst walking over to the younger man, “do you mind if we take a quick walk in the gardens for a talk?” he asks, very deliberately keeping his tone level and calm.

Anakin whips his head around at Obi-Wan’s words, his delicate curls swaying with the motion, “Err – sure.”

As they head outside Obi-Wan observes Anakin. Not only is he left with the distinct impression that something is wrong, but he suddenly realises that Anakin doesn’t look like himself. There are heavy bags under his eyes, highlighting how tired Anakin must be when there should be an enigmatic sparkle and his usual golden skin is not as lustrous as usual, instead a dull tan.

Obi-Wan frowns in worry. Whenever Anakin is upset both his physical appearance and Force signature suffer, dimming like a dying star as Anakin’s worries overtake his usual natural jollity.

As they step outside he breathes in a welcoming breath of fresh air. The private gardens of the Te’Rra government are small, but beautiful. Exotic flowers litter both sides of the walkway, the colours vibrant and welcoming, bringing forth tranquillity and calmness to Obi-Wan’s troublesome thoughts. He finds the smells to be the most enticing though, the air is swollen with an abundance of freshly cut grass and sharp nectar. He feels some of his tension ease as he inhales the sweet aroma.

“You have been unusually quiet these past few days Anakin,” he states, keeping his gaze forward and Force signature open.

“Oh? Have I?” Anakin queries. He briefly glances towards Obi-Wan before looking away again.

Obi-Wan raises an amused eyebrow at Anakin’s feigned obliviousness, “Indeed you have,” he comments, “Is there anything you wish to get of your chest?”

“No,” Anakin answers quickly. His cheeks tint red in embarrassment, his lie ringing clear and loud in the Force around them.

“Hmm,” Obi-Wan hums. He sits at an intricately carved stone seat and settles his hands in his lap. Anakin sits next to him, shifting multiple times as he tries to find a comfortable position on the hard surface.

He waits patiently, admiring their surroundings. Anakin will break the silence first he knows, the younger man has never been able to handle the solitude of his own thoughts for too long.

Anakin lets out a huff of annoyance. “There really isn’t anything wrong, my thoughts are just elsewhere at the moment.”

“Don’t you want to share what’s bothering you?” he asks.

Anakin turns a sharp glare on him, a scowl settling onto his face. “I’ve already told you that nothing’s wrong, why can’t you leave it alone?”

Obi-Wan stares at him in disapproval, unimpressed as always whenever Anakin’s anger is quick to flare. “I’m merely concerned by your lack of presence in the current negotiations Anakin. I know it isn’t your ideal mission but you still have a duty to participate.”

“Really?!” Anakin demands, standing and swirling around to face Obi-Wan. His eyes bright and fists clenched at his sides. “Because I think you’re only bothered because you haven’t been able to fuck me yet,” Anakin whispers scathingly.

“Anakin!” he admonishes, twisting his head around and ensuring they’re alone.

His apprehension is met with a huff of indignation from Anakin, which he promptly ignores.

“What? Don’t try and pretend that’s not what this is about,” Anakin says with heated eyes.

Obi-Wan feels his confidence wither slightly under Anakin’s knowing gaze, shame building within him as a result. It constantly infuriates him that Anakin knows him so well. That his presented worry over Anakin’s lack of interest in the mission was a ruse meant to disguise his concern over their current relationship and that Anakin had been able to see through it so easily.

“It may be somewhat,” he murmurs.

He rolls his shoulders and once again meets Anakin’s eyes. He won’t allow Anakin’s words to antagonize him.

“I suppose I had presumed that you would come to my quarters the previous few nights,” he says calmly, “though it is your prerogative if you choose to do so or not. But I am truly concerned by your lack of focus dear one.”

Anakin’s anger almost evaporates at the familiar endearment. A reminder used to hint at the intimacy the two of them share.

He places himself next to Obi-Wan once again and casts a small, hesitating smile his way. It should be encouraging, yet the unfamiliar uneasiness of it all doesn’t calm Obi-Wan’s nerves.

“I suppose that I-I...” Anakin starts before swallowing thickly, “that I just haven’t been in the mood,” his tone is casual, attempting nonchalance. It would have worked if he hadn’t simultaneously reached over with his flesh hand to stroke the aqua coloured petals of the closest flower. Whenever Anakin fiddles it is a very clear sign that he is attempting to keep his composure.

“I see,” Obi-Wan states. He doesn’t know if he’s more hurt by Anakin’s rejection or his inability to tell him honestly.

A heavy silence hangs between them, neither willing to speak plainly. Despite knowing one another so intimately and for such a long time, Obi-Wan can’t help but think that they really are quite awful at communicating with each other.

“I understand,” he murmurs eventually, the quiet becoming too much to bear. His hands grip his thighs in a poor attempt at easing the stutter of his heart.

He turns to see that Anakin has been observing him all the while. His eyebrows pulled taught in confusion and his mouth opening and closing comically as he prepares to speak.

Anakin still doesn’t say anything though and Obi-Wan urgently wants to leave, the desperation to distance himself from Anakin almost staggering him.

He smoothes his robes down as he stands, “Well, I’m going to go back inside,” he says.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin questions, his head tilting and his tone increasing in pitch.

“It’s okay Anakin, I understand. I won’t be expecting you at my quarters anymore.” He nods his head in indication that the conversation is over and begins to turn away.

“What?!” Anakin exclaims, hurriedly jumping up and following Obi-Wan down the cobbled path, “No, Obi-Wan, you don’t underst – “

“Anakin, we need to return to the negotiations,” he interrupts, his tone serious and face solemn.

“No wait,” Anakin pleads.

He grabs Obi-Wan’s arm in an attempt to halt him but Obi-Wan snatches it from his grip. The aggressive action is unusual coming from him and Anakin’s eyes widen in surprise before settling on hurt. The rejection visibly stinging him as Obi-Wan recoils from his touch.

Obi-Wan’s automatic reaction is to comfort, to soothe Anakin. Over a decade of mentorship and a nearly yearlong relationship making him want to pull Anakin into his arms and tell him that everything is okay. He feels himself bristle at the idea though, unexpectedly reluctant to console Anakin whilst his chest still pulses in pain. The realisation makes him feel worse, Jedi are supposed to be selfless. He should always want to help others, no matter his personal feelings.

He turns from Anakin and re-enters the negotiation room. He calms his breathing and returns to his seat, as cool and composed as ever.

Anakin swiftly follows him and resumes standing by the window. His hair has become a chaotic mess, as though in the few short seconds they were separated he had run his hands through it in frustration, his eyebrows are pulled down in sadness and if Obi-Wan were to look close enough he would see his eyes are rimmed red.

The pulsating sensation in his chest only increases the longer he stares at Anakin, the ache so painful and unpleasant that Obi-Wan brings a hand up to rub at the offended area. He inhales deeply and attempts to release his hurt and loss into the Force, the burn doesn’t leave though and he tries to distract himself by smiling at the returning politicians, listening attentively as the negotiations resume. Throughout the remainder of the day he determinedly doesn’t look in Anakin’s direction, hoping that by doing so he can deflect the accumulating anguish mounting within him.

***

As soon as the negotiations are finished Obi-Wan excuses himself to his quarters. He avoids Anakin and is quite looking forward to an evening of meditation, hoping that it will help get rid of the incessant ache in his chest.

Within the hour he is interrupted by a knock on his door and he knows without a doubt that it’s Anakin. He sighs quietly to himself and leaves his plush, comfortable position amongst the cushions on the floor to stand and let him in.

He is greeted with a frantic looking Anakin, his robes dishevelled and eyes absurdly wide as he pushes past Obi-Wan and rudely sweeps into his quarters. His gaze journeys across the room and eventually lands on the cushions on the floor, “Sorry to interrupt,” he says, in what Obi-Wan thinks is perhaps the least apologetic tone he has ever heard.

Obi-Wan huffs an amused breath and moves to resume his place on the floor.

His eyes roam Anakin’s form as he gazes up at him, they ultimately land on his long glorious legs, as they always do, remembering the feeling of them wrapped around his waist. He nearly flinches when he realises what he’s doing, can he not be in Anakin’s presence for five seconds without sexualizing their encounters? Force, what is wrong with him? What is it about his unruly, reckless former Padawan that makes Obi-Wan thrum with desire?

Before Anakin he had never thought himself to be a passionate man, passionate about the Order, about helping people, yes, but never had he thought of himself as someone who craved to feel another’s skin under his hands, to hunger for that sinful whimper that Anakin emits whenever Obi-Wan thrusts into him sharply. Really, he shouldn’t be surprised that its Anakin he yearns for, Anakin has always had a way of making Obi-Wan reconsider nearly every aspect of his life.

“Well Anakin?” he prompts when it becomes clear the younger man isn’t going to say anything.

Anakin bites at his plump bottom lip, his eyes flickering between Obi-Wan and any other available distraction, “You completely misunderstood me earlier Master,” he murmurs quietly.

“Oh?” Obi-Wan replies, “How so?”

“I don’t want to stop this,” he says, gesturing a hand between them, “I don’t want to stop coming to your room Obi-Wan.” He looks at Obi-Wan with both frustration and sadness etched upon his face. Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to make of it.

His brows furrow in confusion, “I don’t understand. Earlier – “

“Earlier nothing!” Anakin says hoarsely, aggravation clear on his face, “I didn’t say anything, you jumped to the wrong concl – “

Obi-Wan hmphs in disagreement but quickly quietens under Anakin’s baleful glare.

“Will you just stop talking and listen to me for once!” Anakin implores.

Obi-Wan almost wants to chastise Anakin for his tone and lack of respect. But the sincerity of the request stops him and he simply nods his head for Anakin to continue. Anakin’s eyebrows jump in surprise and Obi-Wan doesn’t know if he should be amused or worried that Anakin still acts like a Padawan looking for permission from their Master.

“I-I...” Anakin stammers, he purses his lips in consideration, eventually he takes a noticeable deep breath and continues, “I haven’t come to your room because I’ve been embarrassed.” He watches Anakin grimace at his own words, his face reflecting his discomfort.

What does Anakin have to be embarrassed about? There must be something bothering him though, Obi-Wan thinks, as his eyes follow Anakin’s constant pacing around his room. His actions portray his obvious nervousness, his nearly frantic movements at odds with his usual rambunctious, confident personality.

Finally, Anakin settles himself opposite him on the floor, moving multiple times and rearranging the cushions so much that Obi-Wan is tempted to laugh, strangely amused by the way Anakin huffs in exasperation each time a new arrangement isn’t to his liking and then fluffing the cushions again with dramatic, impatient fingers.

Force knows that Anakin has never had the ability to sit still for long but this sudden twitchiness is absolutely absurd.

“Anakin,” he prompts softly.

Anakin, seemingly aware of his presence once again, flushes in embarrassment at his seen flustering and swiftly stills, thankfully permanently this time.

Licking his lips Anakin starts, “I was at Padme’s when I got the call from Master Yoda and Master Windu to come on this mission.”

“Okay,” he replies.

He is aware that Anakin and the Senator used to be in a relationship, they had always been far too obvious for it to have been kept a secret. He had laughed in Anakin’s face quite uncharacteristically when he had eventually come clean to Obi-Wan about the affair at the start of the war, finding it rather humorous that Anakin had actually thought he was unaware of the fact. The two had apparently decided to call an end to things before the war had started, Anakin stating that they were simply too busy to continue the relationship. Obi-Wan suspects that was only partly true and that in fact the two were merely not as enamoured with each other as they had been during the initial few months.

This conclusion makes Obi-Wan feel ill-at-ease, what if something similar has happened with him and Anakin? What if Anakin has become bored with having an older lover? It seemed only right that Anakin should be with someone as beautiful and enthralling as himself.

“I was there trying on some...clothing,” Anakin says, pushing back a strand of hair that has fallen into his face.

Obi-Wan pulls a puzzled face, he hadn’t been expecting something so, well...dull. “Okay,” he repeats cautiously, hoping for an explanation.

“I was trying on underwear,” Anakin says softly. His gaze is intense, almost pleading, as though hoping that the determination in his eyes will convey what he really means.

Obi-Wan is left floundering. Has he missed something? Why is Anakin being to obtuse? Why does he think that Obi-Wan would want to know about his intimate moments with the Senator, had they rekindled their romance? Is he truly that oblivious? He had thought himself quite observant, especially when it involved Anakin.

Anakin sighs loudly in his continued silence and glares at Obi-Wan in annoyance.

“Stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking Master, because I can almost guarantee that you’re wrong,” Anakin reproves, his tone self-righteous and long suffering.

Anakin shuffles once again, “I can’t believe you’re actually going to make me say it,” he hears Anakin murmur to himself.

He watches Anakin raise his flesh hand to his hair and stroke it subconsciously, the gesture comforting and easily recognisable, “I was trying on, ahh, _womens_ lingerie Obi-Wan,” Anakin finally utters, his cheeks turning a deep red.

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows jump at the admission and his mouth almost falls open before he remembers his manners, he hadn’t been expecting t _hat._ “Oh, I-I, ermm – alright,” he concludes abysmally, his own cheeks heating from his lack of finesse.

Anakin is firmly looking away from him, staring at the floor as though hoping it will swallow him whole.

Obi-Wan rubs at his beard absentmindedly, considering what to say next. He needs to be cautious, that much is obvious, Anakin is clearly uncomfortable with this revelation.

“Is that something you do often?” he asks gently.

Anakin shrugs, “I guess,” he says, pausing to rub his hand across the soft fabric of the closest cushion, “Y-yes, it is. For a while now. Padme knows and so she’ll buy me stuff, she knows where to get women’s lingerie – well, lingerie that’s made for men,” he finishes softly, nibbling on his lips nervously.

“I see,” Obi-Wan murmurs, “You must know that it doesn’t bother me Anakin?”

Anakin eyes slowly meet his, his gaze tentative and questioning, “Really?”

He smiles softly at Anakin, “Of course not dear one, everyone has their own desires, as long as such wants don’t harm anyone else then there’s no reason for you to not enjoy them.”

Anakin’s eyes shine with appreciation, his happiness sincere and true as his face and Force signature turn warm with thankfulness. He curls his own Force signature around Anakin’s in response, his presence open and accepting and feels his eyes crinkle in contentment when Anakin sags in relief, tension finally easing from his body and warmth returning to his presence.

“Is that all that’s been bothering you?” he queries, “That you wanted to tell me but didn’t know how?”

Slowly, Anakin frowns, “No...I probably wouldn’t have told you,” he says, casting a guilty look at Obi-Wan, “or at least not for a while, but, you were overreacting so much I had to explain why I hadn’t come to see you,” Anakin finishes faintly.

Obi-Wan makes a questioning noise, still not understanding. “If you hadn’t planned on telling me then I don’t see why you’ve been acting so distant since our arrival here.”

Anakin gawks at him in vexation, “ _Force,_ Obi-Wan, I’ve never known you to be so imperceptive,” he says, his tone tinged with frustration.

Obi-Wan feels his cheeks heat in embarrassment, the flush spreading down his neck and chest as he considers what exactly he’s missing from this conversation. Anakin is right, he usually prides himself on his insightfulness, he isn’t called The Negotiator for no reason after all, but now he is left dithering over his lack of comprehension. It’s an uncomfortable sensation, to be caught so off guard, particularly around Anakin, who he had always thought he knew better than anyone.

Upon seeing that Obi-Wan still doesn’t understand Anakin rolls his eyes dramatically, “I didn’t have time to change before I was called away on the mission,” he explains bluntly.

Obi-Wan is rubbing at his beard in consideration as Anakin speaks when his body jolts and heat swells throughout him at the implication of Anakin’s words. _Oh, Force._

“You’re still wearing them now?” he asks hoarsely.

“Yes!” Anakin says impatiently, chucking his hands in the air as gratitude steals across his features, pleased that Obi-Wan _finally_ understands.

Obi-Wan swallows thickly and squeezes his eyes shut hard, attempting to ground himself as sudden, overwhelming desire lances through his veins. Anakin, _his Anakin,_ is sat across from him wearing lingerie, only his robes in the way to stop the revelation of that undoubtedly beautiful image.

Distantly, he’s aware that Anakin has been rambling this whole time, his own lack of perception meaning that he hasn’t yet noticed that Obi-Wan has been still and silent all the while, “ – obviously I’ve had them washed but – “

“Take off your robes,” Obi-Wan orders firmly.

“What?” Anakin asks, his eyes flickering to Obi-Wan’s.

“Take off your robes.”

Obi-Wan follows the motion of Anakin’s tongue as he licks his lips, “Why?”

He smirks at Anakin, “Do you really think that you can let me know what you’re wearing without letting me see?”

Anakin’s eyes widen in surprise before lightly relying, “I don’t know – I guess I didn’t really think you’d want to see.”

Anakin’s tone is hesitant, insecure and so completely unlike himself that Obi-Wan’s heart lurches in sympathy. He will do anything to ensure that Anakin has no reason to doubt himself.

He catches Anakin’s eyes and then responds, “Anakin, you are quite possibly one of the most breathtakingly handsome men that I’ve ever met. I can’t think of any instances where I wouldn’t want to look upon or touch you,” he says earnestly, hoping that his gaze and words portray his sincerity.

Anakin flushes alluringly over the praise, and oh, how Obi-Wan wants to follow that blush with his tongue.

“Do you want me to see?” he asks heatedly.

Anakin’s breathing is heavier and his pupils are blown wide but he asks anyway, just to make sure he hasn’t misconstrued the situation.

“Yes,” Anakin answers roughly.

“Stand then and take off your robes. Let me see you,” he says, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him, spreading them unnecessarily wide.

Anakin’s eyes drop to his legs almost immediately, roaming until they land on his lap. He feels his cock twitch and begin to thicken under Anakin’s heated gaze.

Anakin nods, seemingly to himself, before standing and tensely running his hands through his hair. He’s understandably nervous and in the hope of soothing him Obi-Wan runs his right hand down his still clothed chest, down towards his lap where he grips his half-hard cock over the rough strewn fabric. He’s large enough and thick enough that even whilst half-hard Anakin can make out the outline of him through the heavy cloth. Anakin inhales sharply as he watches, his eyes bouncing from Obi-Wan’s face to his hand where he begins rubbing at himself lightly.

“Don’t you see dear one, you haven’t even had to do anything yet and I’m already hard for you,” he states, his voice lowering as his arousal increases.

Anakin moans quietly and begins undoing his belt.

His statement is unbelievably true, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever understand how it’s possible that by only being within Anakin’s proximity the familiar fog of desire has already begun clouding his mind.

He rubs at himself harder, his imagination running rampant as he begins thinking about what type of lingerie Anakin could be wearing. Silk, lace or cotton? A babydoll, slip or bustier? A girdle or garter? What colour will it be? The possibilities are endless and he gasps lightly at all the options. 

Anakin’s boots are the next to be disposed of, Obi-Wan sighs in exasperation when they’re chucked carelessly to the side, yet he can’t help but grin widely when Anakin merely shoots him a pleased leer. The cloak and over tunic are quickly removed, leaving Anakin in his dark under tunic and trousers.

Their eyes are drawn together then, seamlessly encouraging the other to continue and so he lifts his hips and pulls his own trousers and underwear down until they’re cutting into the tops of his thighs, bunching up his robes he extracts his cock and begins gently pulling on himself.

He sighs lightly at the sensation and raises a challenging eyebrow at Anakin, not to be out done the younger man hurriedly strips the remaining clothes from his figure. Obi-Wan watches hungrily, his pulse thumping erratically as Anakin’s movements bring him closer to the revelation of skin.

Anakin removes his trousers first, but his under tunic is loose and long enough that it falls to his thighs, covering everything Obi-Wan wants to see. He growls impatiently and narrows his eyes in annoyance when it’s met with a soft, tinkling laugh from Anakin. Finally, _finally,_ Anakin pulls off his over tunic.

_Oh yes._ Groaning gutturally he grips himself tightly as his cock jolts.

Obi-Wan is left with the devastatingly erotic sight of Anakin in nothing but a soft yellow bralette with accompanying strappy briefs. His half-hard cock is held snugly in a lace pouch attached to two tight strips of fabric that arc seductively across Anakin toned Adonis Belt, over his hips and curve towards what Obi-Wan knows to be a round, muscular arse. The bralette is relatively simple in design, triangular and cinched, the straps thin and material the same lacy fabric as the bottoms.

He swallows thickly as his eyes roam Anakin’s form, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more tempting sight than a golden Anakin posturing himself above him, playfully smirking at him with wide, glazed eyes as he watches Obi-Wan come undone at the mere sight of him.

The dullness of Anakin’s skin from earlier today seems to have vanished, instead he seems almost radiant, the yellow lingerie blending naturally with Anakin’s tan skin tone and bringing forth images of buttercups laid amongst fields of Caramel Antike’s. Anakin’s wild, burnished curls frame his face alluringly, his cheeks and chest are flushed a blush pink and his lips are parted, slick with spit as Anakin licks them repeatedly, attempting to moisten them against his erratic breaths.

Nevertheless, the softness exuded by the combination of the lingerie and the natural warmth of Anakin do not detract from the strength of Anakin’s body. His shoulders are broad, his flesh arm lithe but powerful, his stomach defined and his thighs solid.

This power, more than anything, is what attracts Obi-Wan. The lines of Anakin’s muscles reflect the hours upon hours Anakin has spent training and perfecting his form, the determination Obi-Wan has seen nearly everyday etched upon Anakin’s face as he moves through katas flawlessly until he finally accomplishes his goal. Then recently, this resolve and strength used endlessly to fight countless wars, to ensure that his men, his Padawan and Obi-Wan himself are safe.

Anakin is intoxicating like this, both wild and composed, modest and playful.

He desperately wants Anakin in his lap, panting into his mouth and whimpering his name.

“You like it then?” Anakin asks, grinning.

“Force yes,” he whispers.

Anakin’s cock, much like his own, is now fully hard except Anakin’s is still constrained within the lace pouch, the length of him pressed what must be uncomfortably against the tight fabric. Obi-Wan groans quietly when his eyes find the usual wetness of Anakin’s arousal, though, this time the precome has spread luridly across the lace so that it clings to Anakin’s long cock irresistibly.

“Come,” he states, whilst rising to his knees, “I want to suck your cock.”

Anakin inhales sharply, his cock twitching as he walks over to Obi-Wan and looks down at him, disbelief and excitement written upon his face.

“You look incredible like this Anakin,” he murmurs, sliding his hands up Anakin’s soft thighs and stroking his fingers across the thin straps of underwear. His mouth lowers to follow the path of his hands, licking and sucking across Anakin’s hips and stomach.

Anakin shivers under his touch, his hands rising and landing in Obi-Wan’s hair, gently carding through the thick strands. He gazes up at Anakin all the while, sure of the adoration and lust emanating from his eyes. He bites down particularly hard, hoping to leave a mark on Anakin’s tender thigh and groans in appreciation when it’s met with a moan and the spurt of more precome from Anakin’s cock.

He isn’t sure how long he does this for, biting and sucking and licking every inch of Anakin’s skin he has within reach, but he knows that it’s longer than usual. Anakin’s eyes are heady with pleasure, his mouth slackened and just on the verge of begging, pleading for Obi-Wan to put his mouth on him when he eventually lowers his mouth to Anakin’s cock.

Obi-Wan groans deep and rough at the first flick of his tongue against the hard line of Anakin through the mesh fabric. The hot length of Anakin, the copious amounts of leaking precome and the provocative texture of lace make his own cock throb and eyelids flutter closed at the exhilarating combination of all three.

He mouths over Anakin repeatedly, inhaling the dark aroma of his scent and sucking at his length through the already damp material, his spit and Anakin’s precome flow so generously that the material is unnecessary, the weight and length of Anakin’s cock obvious enough.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin mutters softly.

He glances up at Anakin innocently, feigning ignorance.

“ _Please_ ,” Anakin whispers, tilting his hips forward into Obi-Wan’s mouth.

He contemplates drawing it out, until Anakin is truly desperate. He wants to fuck Anakin too much though and by the obvious wetness already flowing from Anakin he doesn’t think their foreplay can last too long.

Obi-Wan swiftly pulls Anakin from the almost redundant pouch and promptly sucks him into his mouth, his jaw automatically relaxing as Anakin’s hot length slides down his throat. He groans as the familiar flavour of Anakin bursts onto his tongue, as his hard length settles deep in the back of his throat. Anakin’s hands almost involuntarily tighten their grip in his hair, chucking his head back and moaning loudly as Obi-Wan repeatedly slides his lips up and down his cock, sucking harder on the stiff head.

Obi-Wan moans helplessly when Anakin’s hips begin rocking into his mouth, thrusting harder and faster as his pleasure grows, Anakin’s cock shoved deep enough down his throat that he almost gags on it. Obi-Wan loves it though, loves to see Anakin’s inhibitions lowered as he’s overcome with desire, how his cock pulses on a particularly strong suck and his chest slickens with sweat as his body exerts itself whilst chasing that all encompassing bliss.

Anakin’s hands grip his hair tightly, moving Obi-Wan’s head in to meet the forceful snaps of his hips, his eyes closed and mouth open and panting. Anakin looks desperate and peaceful all at once, lost in the dizzying ache of finding his pleasure whilst his hips and hands are rushed, using Obi-Wan so that he can reach it quicker.

It wasn’t often that Obi-Wan allowed Anakin to use him this way, more often than not he would hold Anakin’s hips still, telling Anakin with his firm grip and hard eyes that he was in control of the situation. Yet, there was something undeniably arousing about allowing Anakin to control this movement in this moment, for Anakin to see how much Obi-Wan wanted him, to know how pleased and enthralled he was with the sight of Anakin in lingerie.

Obi-Wan raises his hands from where they are resting against Anakin’s thighs until they slide against the soft lace of the bralette, stroking the material against Anakin’s torso and chest. Both of his thumbs circle Anakin’s areolas, stroking so gently the sensation makes Anakin’s hips twitch erratically in their thrusting. He suddenly pulls on both nipples, twisting them so that they harden beneath his touch. Anakin gasps harshly, whipping his head back down to stare at Obi-Wan with wide, glazed eyes. Obi-Wan does it again, enjoying the sensation of pulling and tugging the pebbles against the lace fabric, watches Anakin all the while as he moans lowly from the added stimulation.

“Force, _Obi-Wan._ I-I think –“ Anakin stammers, his hips pistoning relentlessly, “I’m going to – “

Obi-Wan pulls of off Anakin’s cock abruptly and smiles indulgently when Anakin whines lowly, his cock pulsing threateningly next to Obi-Wan’s face.

“Not yet dear one,” he says, clearing his throat and flushing over the roughness of his own voice, “I only want you coming on my cock tonight.”

Anakin smirks down at him, “You sound so kriffing sexy like that Master.”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes good naturedly, unsurprised that Anakin chose to comment on that rather than his words. “Do I?” he queries.

“Yes,” Anakin replies, lowering himself to the floor and launching himself at Obi-Wan, uncaring of the loud exhale Obi-Wan emits when a heavy Anakin lands on him.

Before he can complain Anakin kisses him, his mouth hot and open, incessant as he shoves his tongue against Obi-Wan’s and licks at it desperately. Obi-Wan reciprocates as best as he can, until eventually his right hand fists Anakin’s hair sharply and tugs on it, demanding that he slow his pace so that the kiss can turn deep and slow. They both moan and pant into each other’s mouths, their legs intertwined and their hips slowly rubbing together.

He groans loudly when Anakin’s hand grabs him suddenly and quickly spreads the precome down his cock, Anakin sets a swift pace, staring at Obi-Wan with unbridled wantonness and moaning deeply when Obi-Wan’s hips begin snapping up to meet the slick slide of his hand.

“I want your cock so much Obi-Wan,” Anakin moans hastily, “it’s been too kriffing long.”

Obi-Wan moans in agreement, silently lamenting over the fact that he can count on one hand the number of times him and Anakin have been able to take their time together, to have more than a handful of minutes where they can touch and explore as much as they want. Usually their encounters are frantic and confined within the closest spare room, rubbing and sucking each other in the brief interludes between missions, or they are desperate and intense, hands trembling in their quarters or tents as they reaffirmed the others continued existence.

He rearranges Anakin’s long legs so that he’s kneeling and spread on either side of his hips, his cock nestling between Anakin’s arse cheeks snugly and rubbing against the lace fabric, the sensation is unusual but not unwelcome. He cradles Anakin’s face warmly as they resume kissing, panting into each other’s mouths as Anakin begins grinding on his cock, his pace soon turning frantic.

Pulling away from Anakin’s lips he thrusts his hand out and calls upon the Force, quickly swiping the tube of lube that comes flying at them through the air from where he called it from the bedroom. Anakin shoots him an impressed glare that soon turns into one of anticipation as Obi-Wan flicks the cap open and squeezes a generous amount onto his fingers.

Sighing quietly he slicks his cock first, feels it jump under his touch and his stomach tighten in excitement. Then with another generous application of the lube onto his fingers he uses his spare hand to bunch the lacy underwear and drag it aside, allowing his slick fingers to trace Anakin’s taint, spreading the lube and gently circling Anakin’s hole.

Anakin releases a whine when Obi-Wan’s index finger enters him, stopping at the first knuckle and then pushing in until the second and then pulling out and repeating the action again. He knows that the first finger is always the most uncomfortable, making Anakin hiss over the initial stretch, but also ache to be filled with _more._ Soon enough a second finger joins, Anakin panting into his hair as he becomes accustomed to the burn. When he adds a third finger Anakin finally groans, enjoying the feeling of three fingers inside him more than any other combination. He’s told Obi-Wan before that two fingers doesn’t prepare him enough for his size and four ensures that he’s fully prepared, loosening him so much that the usual burn he craves from Obi-Wan’s weighty cock sliding into him is removed. Since learning that Anakin yearns for that initial burn, to be able to fully feel all the ridges of his cock as he pushes inside he has only ever prepped Anakin with three fingers.

Before long Obi-Wan’s movements turn fast and rough, effectively fucking Anakin with his three fingers. Anakin pushes back with a groan and rolls his hips, eager to show him just how much he wants it. He moans his approval and uses his free hand to guide Anakin’s hips in their rhythm.

The first curl of his fingers against the sensitive gland of Anakin’s prostrate produces a full body shudder and a high keen, Anakin shoving himself down harder as his mouth drops open and his cheeks flush alluringly.

“Now,” Anakin pants impatiently, “I need you in me now.”

Before Obi-Wan can think to protest, knowing that Anakin needs more prep time to accommodate his size, Anakin raises himself off his fingers.

They both still when Anakin reaches behind himself and grabs Obi-Wan’s cock. He lowers himself slowly, guiding Obi-Wan with his flesh hand and steadying himself with the other against Obi-Wan’s chest. He watches Anakin’s breath hitch, his face changing between a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Fuck, Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispers, his mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut.

Obi-Wan’s hands grip his hips tightly, employing all of his Jedi control to not twitch his hips up, to not thrust up hard into Anakin’s tight heat. _Force,_ Anakin was so tight and hot, so perfectly wrapped around his cock.

His thumbs stroke Anakin’s hips as he waits for him to adjust, his own heavy breathing calming as Anakin settles, moaning deeply once he’s sheathed all of Obi-Wan’s length.

“You take me so well,” he groans quietly, “you always take me so well Anakin.”

“ _Force,_ ” Anakin hisses, gritting his teeth.

Anakin raises and lowers himself gradually, wincing slightly as he does. Obi-Wan comforts him with his hands, stroking up to Anakin chest where he once again caresses his sensitive nipples, pleased when Anakin’s cock twitches against his stomach.

Anakin repeats the motion, eventually lifting himself quicker and dropping himself back down harder, his back arching and head thrown back in pleasure when he finds a particularly good angle, a coarse moan escaping his throat.

“ _Yes_ ,” Obi-Wan growls lowly, “fuck yourself on my cock, show me how you want it.”

Anakin whines softly in response, moving his hips quicker as he’s encouraged by Obi-Wan, bouncing himself fervently as he stares down at Obi-Wan with wide, lustrous eyes. Obi-Wan doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more provocative image than Anakin near incoherent from pleasure, his chest flushed a deep, suggestive red, soft curls in wild disarray and body slick with sweat, the bralette and briefs sticking to Anakin’s skin seductively as he fucks himself relentlessly on Obi-Wan’s cock.

Obi-Wan sets his hands on Anakin’s hips, bends his knees and plants his feet firmly on the ground before abruptly snapping his own hips up into Anakin. Anakin’s hands scramble at his chest, his mouth dropping open as that familiar, breathtaking whimper falls from his throat.

Obi-Wan does this again and again, he will do anything to get Anakin to make that noise, knows what that little whimper indicates, that Anakin is nearly overwhelmed with need. That he wants to be used and taken until he comes, until his mind is empty and only bliss remains.

He drives his hips up forcefully into Anakin and shoves his cock in deeper, groaning gutturally as Anakin becomes pliant and loose on top of him, his hips attempting to meet Obi-Wan’s powerful thrusts.

“F-fuck Master, holy fuck – “ Anakin stammers, nails digging into Obi-Wan’s chest, “don’t stop, _please_ don’t stop.”

Obi-Wan snarls roughly, grabbing Anakin by the shoulders and pulling him down tightly against his chest. Moving the slick scrap of Anakin’s briefs aside his hands grip Anakin’s arse cheeks and spreads them roughly before plunging his cock in sharply.

The change in angle causes Anakin to cry out, his body slumping and back arching deliciously on top of Obi-Wan, allowing himself to be manoeuvred and taken however Obi-Wan wants. The sensation is intoxicating, it always is when Anakin becomes like this, trusting Obi-Wan to use his body in a way that he knows will bring Anakin the most pleasure.

Anakin is mumbling incomprehensibly against his neck, keening highly each time Obi-Wan bottoms out, his hands clawing at the floor uselessly as he’s jolted forward with every deep shove.

The sound of his hips slapping up to meet Anakin’s arse is luridly loud within the quiet of the room, yet it only encourages Obi-Wan to quicken his pace, his hips pistoning faster. He keeps one hand on Anakin’s hip in a steadying grip whilst the other moves to flick his own hair from his forehead, his face and body dripping with sweat, the heat from his robes and Anakin’s body near stifling.

His cock jolts within the tight, slick heat of Anakin when he feels a grounding bite on his neck, Anakin sucking and slurping away the sweat, clenching down on his cock each time he feels a renewed twitch against his inner walls. He groans loudly and squeezes his eyes shut determinedly, Anakin will be coming first tonight, not him.

He grabs Anakin’s curls and drags his face up to his, licking his lips hungrily when he’s met with the intoxicating sight of a fucked out Anakin, his large, glazed eyes hazy and his mouth slack. _Force, yes._

“Please Master,” Anakin slurs, resting his forehead against Obi-Wan’s and staring at him in desperation.

“Come on, give it to me,” he murmurs roughly against Anakin’s open mouth, “I want to see you coming on my cock.”

Anakin attempts to move his flesh hand to his cock where it’s rubbing between their bodies, thick and hot. “No,” Obi-Wan utters, quickly grabbing the hand and moving it behind Anakin’s back, clasping it with his other hand still holding Anakin’s hip.

Anakin whines high and needy, “ _Please_.”

“You can come from my cock alone,” Obi-Wan states knowingly.

Anakin has only come untouched twice before but Obi-Wan can tell that Anakin is nearly there, that he is so close to pulsing between them.

Obi-Wan shoves into Anakin’s loosened hole with renewed intensity, his thrusts harder but not faster. He knows that Anakin prefers to feel the depth of his cock rather than the quickness of his pace. The increased burn in his thighs and arse are welcomed as he watches Anakin cry out, tears forming in his eyes and his hole clenching around his cock near impossibly.

“ _Yes_ ,” Obi-Wan hisses, his fist tightening in Anakin’s hair.

“You should see yourself like this – “ he pants. Freeing Anakin’s hand he grabs the two twin straps of fabric of Anakin’s briefs, they’re resting snugly against his hip before he pulls them away from Anakin’s body and just as quickly releases them, the fabric hitting Anakin’s skin with an erotic slap that makes them both moan.

“You look like you were made to wear this.” He grabs the fabric again and repeats the action, satisfied when Anakin’s eyes shutter closed, tears slipping down his face as his body tenses tightly as his orgasm creeps closer.

“I want you dressed up like this all the time, looking like the sun itself, you have no idea do you? What you look like – “ he gasps erratically, his hips still pumping relentlessly.

“Oh fuck, please, _I-I’m so close_ ,” Anakin whispers brokenly.

“ _Fuck,_ look at you. You’re so beautiful Anakin.”

Anakin cries out hoarsely as his orgasm finally drags itself from his body. His legs shake uncontrollably and his back arches tensely, Obi-Wan groans unabashed when Anakin’s hole grasps his cock tightly, each clench exquisitely coinciding with the throbs of Anakin’s cock felt against his stomach. His hips continue driving into Anakin throughout, each push in drawing forth more keens from Anakin’s throat and trembles across his body.

He eventually slows to a gentle push and pull once Anakin’s dazed eyes blink open, his tears drying on his face and his body only twitching occasionally.

“Force Master,” Anakin slurs quietly, lifting his hands to Obi-Wan’s hair and pulling at it lightly.

He hums in agreement, that had indeed been something he was unlikely to forget anytime soon.

Anakin tries to move his hips back into Obi-Wan slow thrusts, but his body is too sluggish and uncooperative, he frowns at Obi-Wan sadly.

“It’s okay Anakin, I’m fine like this,” he says, his breath calming as he drags air into his lungs. Despite the hot ache in his groin, he knows that Anakin must be sensitive right now.

“What – No!” Anakin exclaims, his body attempting to jerk to attention.

“Really I am – “

“No kriffing way Master,” Anakin interrupts loudly. He clenches around Obi-Wan’s cock in retaliation and smirks proudly when it forces a deep groan from Obi-Wan’s throat.

Though still glazed Anakin’s eyes gaze at him with a mischievous sparkle. “Don’t you want to come in me?” he murmurs coyly into Obi-Wan’s ear, slowly sucking on the lobe, “Don’t you want to fill me up? Watch your come run out of me and ruin my pretty lingerie.”

Obi-Wan’s breath stutters in his chest, his hands grip Anakin’s hips roughly, forcing him down harder onto his length as his cock jerks angrily. The words aren’t enough to make him come, though they were ridiculously close to coming to. Anakin knows exactly what Obi-Wan needs to hear, knows exactly how to ignite his desire so that he’s aching with lust. Apparently Anakin has also been able to decipher very easily that watching his come slide out of Anakin and onto the lace material was something he urgently wanted to see.

Anakin moans lowly in response, flicking his tongue across Obi-Wan’s lips and staring at him knowingly.

He glares at Anakin in exasperation, his arousal and concern battling against one another.

“You’re too sensitive right now,” he sighs softly. His hands knead Anakin’s arse repetitively though, his body not cooperating with his mind.

Anakin’s face drops, his lips pouting.

“I can come anywhere else, on your body, in your mouth,” Obi-Wan says, hoping to entice Anakin.

“No,” Anakin declares. “Please Obi-Wan, it’s been _months,_ I want to feel you. Want to feel you when you’re hot and wet inside me,” he pleads.

Anakin’s face and tone are earnest, his eyes silently pleading for Obi-Wan to understand, and he does, it was something they both desperately craved and ached for whilst they were separated.

Obi-Wan feels his resolve weaken under Anakin’s sincere words, “You’ll tell me if it’s too much,” he orders gently.

“I will,” Anakin mumbles softly, a pleased grin alighting on his face.

As he lifts Anakin up they both moan when his cock slips out of Anakin’s slick hole, he hurriedly manoeuvres Anakin onto the floor, Anakin trying to help despite his languid movements and pleasantly muddled mind. 

Anakin rolls onto his front and tries to rise onto his knees, but upon seeing his still wavering legs Obi-Wan moves to push him down. His hands stutter in their progress when he’s met with the sight of Anakin’s arse wrapped in the tantalizing yellow lace, the fabric perfectly enclosing his toned globes. He drags his hands up the back of Anakin’s thighs, grabbing the warm globes he spreads them widely and groans gutturally as the lace moves into the crease of Anakin’s arse cheeks. The fabric sticks to the lube and sweat immersed in Anakin’s crevice and is transparent enough that he can see Anakin’s loosened hole blinking up at him.

Almost instinctively he leans down and bites into the flesh, repeating this multiple times as Anakin squirms and pants into his hold. He pulls back and moves over Anakin’s body quickly, he finally removes his own soiled robes and tunic, Anakin’s come sticking to the material messily and sighs in pleasure when his chest is met with a cool breeze. Bending one of Anakin’s legs up and keeping the other straight he pulls the moist fabric of Anakin’s underwear aside. Anakin is looking at him over his shoulder, his eyes wide and trusting, body loose and pliant. He enters Anakin swiftly, groaning unhindered as he’s once again enveloped in that addictive wet heat.

He listens to Anakin intently, ensuring that his thrusts aren’t too much, fortunately he’s only greeted with soft moans, Anakin whimpering between the staccato cries Obi-Wan draws out of him with every deep shove.

It won’t take much, he’s already so tightly coiled that he can feel the familiar tingle of imminent release spreading throughout his body.

“ _Anakin – “_ he gasps, lowering himself so that his slick chest rubs against Anakin’s back, his hips fucking into Anakin’s hole ruthlessly. The loud sound of slapping flesh fills the room, the both of them mewling continuously as his thrusts turn frantic.

“ _Yes,_ ” Anakin moans lowly, tightening himself around Obi-Wan deliberately, “give it to me Master, fill me up.”

Obi-Wan releases a snarl of pleasure before a salacious cry falls from his lips, his hips suddenly stuttering to a stop and his cock throbbing as he spills himself inside of Anakin. 

His orgasm is bright and powerful, a burst of white light flickering behind his eyelids as his fists clench and his jaw slackens. He presses tender kisses along Anakin’s neck and shoulders as his focus returns, smiling as he runs his hand through dishevelled curls, his cock resting pleasantly inside Anakin.

Anakin shifts eventually, moaning softly as Obi-Wan’s cock slips free. Obi-Wan pulls back immediately, leaning back on his knees he groans in satisfaction as he watches his come drip from Anakin’s slick opening and trickle down the back of his thighs. The lacy underwear is smeared in his spend, clinging to Anakin’s arse in an almost illicit manner.

He drops down next to Anakin and continues running his hand through Anakin’s hair, his lips twitching happily as Anakin pushes his head into the action.

“Do you want me to get a cloth?” he asks.

“Hmm,” Anakin mumbles contentedly, “not yet.”

He raises himself onto one elbow, rests his head on his hand and watches Anakin leisurely. It has been far too long since they were able to do this, to relax together in their shared afterglow and enjoy each other’s company. The tranquillity of the moment is a rarity and one in which Obi-Wan swiftly gathers and keeps close to his chest, knowing that in the coming months and perhaps years he would use this moment to remind himself that joy can exist.

“What would you have done if I hadn’t come to your room?” Anakin asks, blinking open his bleary eyes.

Obi-Wan ponders the question for a moment, _what would he have done?_ Knowing in hindsight that it was all just a misunderstanding he wants to think that he would have gone to Anakin himself and demanded an explanation. He knows that he’s too stubborn though, and often too conscious of his self-respect, especially in regards to matters concerning his attachments or his attachment to Anakin in particular. It makes him flush in shame, realising that he could have lost Anakin and all because he was unwilling to appear vulnerable, to be un-Jedi like. He has always found it difficult reconciling these two aspects of himself and as a result, he chooses to simply ignore the problem.

But what if Anakin hadn’t been his usual unwavering self? He would have lost the most important person in his life and it would have been his own fault. His heart shudders painfully at the thought.

He shrugs, feigning indifference. “I don’t know.”

Under Anakin’s shrewd gaze and unusual continued silence he sighs quietly, “I probably would have lost you and I most likely still will Anakin, you deserve someone younger, someone who makes you happy.”

Anakin’s mouth pops open in shock as he raises himself to his elbows, jostling Obi-Wan’s hand so that it rests at the nape of his neck. “What a load of bantha fodder!” Anakin huffs, “I’ve never been as happy as when I’m with you Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows jump in surprise, he flicks his eyes to Anakin who is staring at him imploringly.

“You believe me don’t you?”

He observes Anakin pointlessly, looking for signs of insincerity even though he knows he won’t find any, Anakin has always worn his heart for all to see.

“I do.”

Anakin frowns at him in consideration, “But you still think that you’ll lose me...that I’ll want someone else eventually?”

He swallows past the hard lump in his throat. “You’re still very young Anakin, you can’t predict who you’ll meet in the future. I suppose none of us can really envisage anything at the moment, the war doesn’t appear to be lessening,” he says sadly.

Obi-Wan is pushed onto his back, Anakin’s hair falling around them and cocooning them as Anakin peers down at him, his dark blue eyes staring at Obi-Wan intently.

“I’m not some Padawan only looking for sex Obi-Wan,” Anakin murmurs, “I’m with you because I want to be, because I can’t imagine feeling this way about anyone else. What we have is important to me – isn’t it important to you too?” Anakin queries, his tone unsure.

“Of course it is dear one.” He smiles at Anakin gently before leaning up to kiss him softly, his hands stroking through his curls and across his broad shoulders.

Once they pull apart they grin at each other deliriously and he knows that were they to search their bond in that moment he would be able to identify the love between them easily.

Crossing his arms over Obi-Wan’s chest and placing his head on his hands Anakin stares up at him, his eye crinkling from happiness and his mouth quirking into a leer, “Do you have any special requests for next time?”

“Special requests?” he poses, although he knows exactly what Anakin means, his cock giving a valiant twitch against Anakin’s stomach at the proposition.

With a roguish smirk Anakin licks his lips in what should be an overly crude manner, Obi-Wan’s body doesn’t seem to care about the ridiculous ploy of seduction though, his cock slowly begins filling once again and an obvious blush of arousal forms on his chest. He thinks he should be somewhat mortified over Anakin’s easy influence over him, but he only feels a pleased giddiness swell within him. He adores this man and all of his outlandish, yet successful, attempts at flirtation.

Anakin’s lips are slick with spit as he talks, “If you let me know I’ll wear it for you,” he comments, lowering his mouth to Obi-Wan’s nipples and licking them softly.

Obi-Wan gasps lightly, “Maybe a...slip? Something tight,” he mumbles hesitantly.

Anakin hums in agreement, the noise vibrating against his chest, “I can do that. What colour?”

“White,” he replies automatically.

Anakin raises his head, one eyebrow arched in knowing intrigue. “Want me looking virginal Master?” he teases.

Obi-Wan doesn’t reply, his silence and quickened breath are answer enough.

“Like knowing that you’re the only person that’s ever fucked me? That you’re the only person I want fucking me?” Anakin asks with heated eyes, his own cock beginning to respond against Obi-Wan’s stomach.

“ _Yes,_ ” he groans, his fingers tightening in the cushions below him as Anakin begins kissing his way down his chest. He shouldn’t like it as much as he does, but the knowledge that he’s the only person to have ever been inside Anakin always fills him with possessive pride. It’s something that he’s battled with constantly since the start of their relationship and something that he’s had to accept will always be present.

Luckily Anakin doesn’t seem to have any qualms about his inappropriate kink. His eyes are wickedly indecent as he sucks marks into Obi-Wan’s skin and his breath stutters hotly when he reaches Obi-Wan’s half hard cock. “I’ll do and wear whatever you want Master, as long as you keep looking at me like that,” Anakin sighs, the words and tone soft, nearly vulnerable, before they’re replaced by that familiar smirk as Anakin swallows him down skilfully.

Obi-Wan cries out as sudden heat blankets his cock, he clutches at Anakin’s hair enthusiastically as his head starts bobbing and stares up at the ceiling with wide blinking eyes. He can’t help but feel overwhelmingly grateful for still having this incredible man in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> In case any of you were interested you can find the lingerie that inspired this fic here: https://www.etsy.com/listing/759143159/men-lingerie-set-sexy-lingerie-men


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